"Damian Lu Point Of View''
I didn't have time to linger in mid-level offices, but I did anyway.
The operations wing was a maze of glass cubicles, faux plants, and people who avoided eye contact when I passed. Good. I preferred that.
But this floor had become a strange gravity well lately. And I kept finding excuses to be here.
I stood near the elevator now, pretending to check my phone as my eyes scanned the department.
Then I saw her.
She was laughing.
Not loud. Not fake. Just something low and real and quiet, like it surprised her too.
The guy beside her was Caleb Min—project oversight, Harvard tie, and too casual around women. He leaned in, grinning. Said something.
Ella tilted her head, smiling.
Her smile did something to me.
I didn't want it to.
Caleb said something else. Her fingers twitched like she was suppressing a reply. And then—he touched her.
Barely. Just a brush of his hand against her elbow.
My jaw clenched.
He shouldn't have touched her.
I stepped back into the wall's shadow, watching them.
There was something... off. About how I looked at her. About how he looked at her.
Then the thought hit me.
She's married.
I muttered it under my breath before I realized I'd spoken aloud.
"She's married."
The words tasted strange.
Was that jealousy in my throat?
Or just confusion? Because something about her kept needling at me—an itch I couldn't reach.
Why did it bother me so much that Caleb touched her?
She looked up suddenly. Our eyes didn't meet. I ducked sideways, pretending to check the conference room schedule on my tablet.
Idiot.
I didn't spy on employees. I didn't lurk in corners like some schoolboy catching feelings.
But with her, I couldn't think straight.
I asked HR for an employee roster that night. Not officially. I told them I wanted to personally recognize standout performers. They gave me the full list. Photos. Roles.
Ella Lin.
That was the name in the system.
Not Lu.
Her profile said she joined a year ago. Clean record. High performance. No complaints. No red flags.
No husband listed.
No emergency contact.
No nothing.
So why had I called her married?
Because of the way she acted? The way Caleb hovered like he knew her better than I did?
I closed the file.
Still restless.
Still thinking of her.
The next morning, I passed her in the break room.
She poured coffee with her left hand. No ring. She didn't see me.
I didn't speak.
But I watched.
She was careful in everything she did. Precise. Controlled.
Women like Chloe liked to be seen.
Women like Ella moved as if the world might turn on them any second.
I admired it.
And hated that I noticed.
I made my way to Legal next.
"I need an update on the dissolution papers," I told Mark.
He blinked. "Sir? The team still hasn't tracked down her current address. Just the name. Ella Lu. No digital trace."
My blood turned to ice.
Ella.
I stared at the wall behind his head.
Lu.
Her name in the system was Lin.
But what if it wasn't always?
What if I'd already seen her?
What if...
I stood up.
"Pull any employee files with the name Ella. Lin, Lu, whatever. I want all variants. Background check. Photo history. Everything."
Mark frowned. "Are we looking into a hiring issue?"
"We're looking into the past. That's all."
He nodded.
I left.
And for the first time in two years, I felt completely out of control.
I kept seeing Caleb's hand on her elbow.
The way she laughed like no one was watching.
The way I was watching.
Too closely.
Too much.
Later that evening, Chloe noticed my silence.
"Damian," she said, "you've been a ghost all week."
"I've been working."
"That's not the same thing."
I didn't answer. I couldn't explain it.
The night dragged on. My thoughts wandered.
I opened the employee database again. Stared at Ella's photo.
That smile wasn't the same one she gave Caleb. This one was stiff. Forced. Corporate.
I clicked to her resume. Schools. Certifications. No mention of marriage. Nothing suspicious.
Still, I felt it in my bones. The way she moved around me. Like she knew me.
I stared at her name.
Ella Lin.
The only woman I ever married was named Ella Lu.
Coincidence wasn't impossible.
But it didn't feel like a coincidence.
I rubbed a hand across my jaw.
If she was the same woman… she hadn't told me.
Why not?
Had she changed her name? Disguised her records? Joined my company on purpose?
Or had I walked right past my own wife without ever knowing?
If she had changed her name… maybe she wanted to be forgotten.
Then why hadn't she left?
I checked the date again. Thursday.
Two days from now, I'd be conducting a floor visit. Her floor.
Maybe fate would stop playing games.
Or maybe it already had.
I closed the file.
But the name kept glowing behind my eyes.
Ella.
Too close.
Too familiar.
Too dangerous.